


The Baker King

by Caledonia, tracionn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2019 Merlin Reverse, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baker Arthur, Bakery, Boys In Love, Fluff, M/M, instagram au, writer Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caledonia/pseuds/Caledonia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracionn/pseuds/tracionn
Summary: Writer!Merlin / Baker!Arthur Instagram AU; Arthur's specialty are croissants (and Merlin loves them); Merlin loves pretty paper notebooks and Arthur learns about that and gifts him one or two or twenty?





	The Baker King

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [tracionn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracionn/pseuds/tracionn) for the beautiful art and the prompt which was so easy to write for. I hope I have done you justice. <3 <3
> 
> Disclaimer: We don't own BBC Merlin. No copyright infringement intended.

He was back again, then. Arthur peered out from the kitchen and saw the lanky, black-haired man settling himself at a table by the window. Arthur smoothed his hair down, realising as he did that his flour-covered hand had deposited flour in his hair, no doubt making him look ridiculous. Thankfully the man was busy unloading his many fancy notebooks from his bag, so Arthur had time to brush the flour out of his hair before he went out front to serve him.

“I’ll have an almond croissant, please.” The man said, smiling that smile that made Arthur want to smile right back. 

“Just the usual, then?” Arthur grinned, placing the croissant onto the plate and handing it over. The man’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. “Do you want me to just run a tab? Then you can pay when you leave?” Arthur asked, and the man met his eyes, surprised.

“I didn’t think that was possible here?” He said, and as usual his voice went through Arthur like a rampaging pinball, ricocheting through his body and leaving wreckage behind.

“I think we can make an exception, considering you’re here most days.” Arthur said, and the other man blushed again.

“It’s the croissants,” He exclaimed, looking away, “I’ve never had better, they’re amazing!” As the man’s cheeks began to colour again, Arthur felt his own colouring in response to the compliment. Though he’d been baking for years, it still felt fresh and new each and every time someone told him they liked his products.

“Well, thank you. It’s always nice to know your work is appreciated.” Arthur and the other man stood awkwardly for a few minutes before a timer in the kitchen began to ring and Arthur excused himself.

Once he turned the timer off he stood for a few seconds breathing deeply. It had been weeks of this; blatant flirting over croissants, covert glances over cups of coffee. The tall, dark, (practical) stranger scribbling away in one of his endless fancy notebooks, and Arthur wishing he felt confident enough to interrupt him, or, even, ask his name. But Arthur never did, and neither did the stranger. It was so frustrating. So Arthur returned to his baking and he let someone else cover the front.

\--

The next morning he was back again, unpacking his bag, removing, and Arthur counted this time, six different fancy notebooks, their spines iridescent blue, dreamy green, or jewelled purple. In their stacks on the table they looked like nothing more than journals bound in butterfly wings. The man seemed to treasure them, Arthur caught him running one of his thin hands over the covers on more than one occasion as though he was caressing something precious. 

Arthur was forcibly reminded of the way he himself treated his dough, and the comparison was almost comical. 

“Morning.” Arthur said, already plating up an almond croissant. The tall man stood close to the other side of the counter, and one of Arthur’s staff set his black coffee on the counter beside the croissant plate.

“I feel like we should be on a first name basis.” The man said, stretching his hand over the counter. “I’m Merlin.”

Arthur felt a smile spread over his whole face. “I’m Arthur. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Merlin said, and he nodded once and sat himself down at his table. Arthur escaped to the kitchen and spent the next ten minutes smiling like a complete idiot.  _ I feel like we should be on a first name basis. I’m Merlin. _

As easy as that. Damn.

\--

The next week followed like the rest had before that. Arthur and Merlin sometimes managed to steal five or ten minutes to talk to each other, stood at the end of the counter. Merlin would hold his plate and coffee, and Arthur would stand awkwardly, unsure of where to put his hands. Arthur was also always conscious that he was covered in flour and that he’d been awake since four in the morning. That was how their encounters always went. 

Then, one afternoon after Arthur had left the bakery and was walking home, he saw a display in the window of a shop, and something caught his eye. It was a small notebook that looked like it would fit right in with Merlin’s butterfly collection. It was a deep red, with a tooled cover, and the front was worked with a pattern of flowers in a million shining colours.

Without even thinking about it, Arthur bought the notebook. And a second one he spotted by the till that was larger and iridescent pink with a pattern of poppies on the cover. The next day he saw one that was dark blue with small, delicate purple stars on it. At the weekend he picked one up that was metallic silver with strange markings on the cover. He gave exactly none of them to Merlin, but he derived immense joy from seeing them stacked in the corner in the back of the kitchen.

\--

One particular Thursday, Arthur was kicking about the kitchen in a foul mood. He would never admit that he was in a bad mood because Merlin hadn’t been in yet that day, but he knew that was exactly the reason. And his staff probably knew as well. But he was in a foul mood anyway, and it didn’t help that the next week was the beginning of the British Baking Awards, and Arthur was so nervous about the judging that he was making stupid mistakes all over the place.

“Um, Arthur?” Sophie said, peeking her head around the door to the kitchen.

“What is it?” Arthur said, trying his best not to spread his bad mood. 

“There’s someone here asking for you.” Sophie said, and she waited in the doorway while Arthur came out to the front of the shop. Merlin was there, and Arthur’s bad mood evaporated instantly. He had also brought friends with him.

“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed, a smile splitting his face as well. Arthur beamed. “I wanted to introduce you to my friends, this is Gwen, and her husband Lance. I’ve been telling them about your croissants for weeks, and I finally managed to get them in to try them!”

“It’s lovely to meet you!” Gwen smiled, shaking Arthur’s hand. “Merlin’s said such lovely things about you.” Here, Merlin elbowed her side and Gwen continued, “your croissants. Your croissants. Merlin has said such lovely things about your croissants.”

By the look on Merlin’s face it was clear that he was considering dropping Gwen as a friend completely. Arthur just laughed, thinking of the improbably large stack of notebooks he had in a box in the other room.

“Well, he’s here often enough that he would know.” Arthur said, and he tried to catch Merlin’s eye, but Merlin was looking resolutely in the other direction. “Have a seat. Sophie will get your drink orders and I’ll bring over some croissants for you to try.” Arthur said, directing them to Merlin’s favourite table, the one by the window that sat three.

When he returned with the plates of croissants Merlin and his friends were sat at a larger table. Gwen gestured to the fourth seat, asking Arthur to join them. Arthur, surprised, agreed. Sophie, bless her heart, arrived a few seconds later with a coffee for Arthur to drink, and Arthur decided it was probably time for her to have a pay rise.

“So, Arthur, how long have you owned the bakery?” Gwen asked, and then she took a bite of croissant. The look that crossed her face was almost indecent.

“I told you.” Merlin said, laughing. Gwen’s eyes had gone round and, as she chewed she kept making small noises of appreciation. Lance, looking disbelieving, took a bite as well and went into similar transports of delight. Arthur began to feel slightly uncomfortable and took a sip of his coffee. “They really are that good, Arthur. You have a way with these croissants, I can’t even begin to explain.”

“His Instagram page has become a sort of shrine to your bakery, I don’t know if you know that.” Gwen said, her mouth full. “I got tired of being tempted by all the gorgeous things here, so I made him bring me.”

“A shrine?” Arthur asked, and he looked over at Merlin. He was definitely not imaging Merlin’s embarrassed blush. He suddenly wanted to drag out the flour-covered box of notebooks from the back and confess his attraction to the elusive writer, but he didn’t. Not in front of his friends.

“You should look him up.” Lance said, smiling, “He’s Wizard of Words on Instagram.” Lance and Gwen returned to the croissants and Gwen fed Lance a broken-off piece of chocolate croissant as Arthur turned away, digging his phone out of his apron pocket.

“A shrine, huh?” Arthur teased Merlin, opening Instagram and searching for Merlin. Sure enough there were a number of pictures taken here at the bakery. Most of Merlin’s work space, fancy notebooks, coffee, and croissants, but there was a candid shot of Arthur himself, carrying a tray of croissants from the back room to be sold. Arthur felt a flush colouring his cheeks again.

“Sorry.” Merlin muttered, looking away.

“Sorry? These are great!” Arthur said, smiling, “I kind of want to hire you to run the bakery’s official account. My croissants look great in these pictures! And it’s not a bad one of me, either!”

Merlin laughed, and then, as always happened to Arthur when life was getting interesting, a timer in the kitchen blared, and Sophie appeared, looking apologetic.

“Sorry,” Arthur said, rising from the table, “I have to get that. It was lovely to meet you both. Merlin, I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Arthur said, excusing himself and rushing away to the kitchen.

After that, though, Arthur kept a much closer eye on Merlin’s Instagram account.

\--

The next week Arthur was in the bakery so much he basically missed all hours of sunlight. The judges for the Best British Bakery awards were coming on Friday morning, and Arthur wanted to have everything exactly perfect. He was entering all of his varieties of croissant, as well as two types of bread, and a cream cake. He was stressed to breaking point, exhausted, and just ready to have the entire week over with.

On Thursday afternoon Merlin showed up, by himself this time, and seated himself at his regular table. Arthur knew he didn’t have time to spare for a long conversation, but he couldn’t stop himself from at least serving Merlin. He needed Merlin’s smile to get him through the following morning.

“Tomorrow then, eh?” Merlin asked, then said, “You literally having nothing to worry about. Your croissants are the best I’ve ever eaten. I’m sure everyone here would tell you the same thing. And your cakes, and your bread. You will wipe the floor with all the other bakeries. I mean it.” Merlin said, and Arthur smiled. He didn’t know what to say, because Merlin sounded so sincere, and Arthur was so nervous about the judging that he could barely think straight.

“Thank you, Merlin, that means a lot to me. Really, it does. And I’m sorry, but I don’t really have time to chat today.”

“No, no, off you go and do whatever magic it is that you do in that kitchen. You’ll do great.” Merlin said again, and he reached out and took Arthur’s hand, squeezing it briefly. Arthur smiled as he walked away. He could do this. He could win. Winning would be easy, really. No big deal.

Friday came and Arthur did everything he wanted to do and it all turned out better than he expected. His croissants were flaky, golden and perfect. His cream cake looked nice enough to serve to the Queen. His breads had outshone his expectations. The judges had left looking happy, and slightly impressed. 

When Merlin came in that afternoon Arthur decided it was time. Enough with Arthur’s secretive admiration. He was going to give Merlin those notebooks and ask Merlin out on a date. Outcome be damned. If Merlin accepted his invitation then fantastic. If not, then all Arthur would lose was a fairly regular customer.

“Merlin!” Arthur called, stepping out from the kitchen with his floury box of gifts. Merlin looked startled, but happy to see Arthur so relaxed after yesterday’s tension.

“How did it go this morning?” Merlin asked, eyeing the box curiously.

“Oh, it was fine. The results aren’t out for a few weeks, and my worrying about it isn’t going to change the outcome. I did my best and the rest is up to them.”

“That’s a healthy attitude.” Merlin said, smiling. He was bringing out his own notebooks and his bag of fancy pens, and Sophie arrived with his croissant and coffee, setting it down on the table as far away from Merlin’s notebooks as possible. 

“I have something for you, Merlin. I’ve been hoarding them, and the time has come.” Arthur reached into the box and brought out all of the notebooks he had bought Merlin over the past few weeks. There were more than ten, possibly there were more than twenty, but Arthur just handed them all over. Merlin laughed, taking them all from Arthur as Arthur just kept handing him more and more notebooks. 

“Arthur, what have you done?” Merlin asked, laughing a little helplessly.

“I can’t help myself. Every time I see one of these notebooks I think of you, and I have to get it for you.” Arthur admitted. Then he cleared his throat. “Actually, Merlin, I think about you rather more often that that, if I’m honest. And I wondered whether you would like to go out with me. On a date.”

Merlin was still smiling, trying to process the total insanity of the gift Arthur had given him, and he paused in his perusal of the many notebooks to smile warmly. “Of course I would like to go on a date with you, Arthur. As soon as possible, actually.”

\--

“I’m working on a few different ideas at the same time. That’s why I have so many notebooks.” Merlin admitted as they enjoyed their early dinner. Arthur was trying his best not to just openly stare. Merlin, it turned out, scrubbed up well. Arthur was nowhere near as put-together, but he had done his best. It had been so long since Arthur had had to be anywhere but the bakery that he’d had to dig out his nice clothes from the dark recesses of his wardrobe.

“I don’t know how you can manage that. My brain isn’t wired for writing, especially not more than one thing at a time.” Arthur admitted. He wanted to reach across the table and hold Merlin’s hand, but he held himself back. They were eating dinner, after all, and it was difficult to eat one-handed. But the desire was there. He wanted to touch Merlin, just to reassure himself that Merlin was really there and that Arthur wasn’t imagining this whole evening.

“I don’t know how you can be shaping croissants while baking cakes and mixing bread dough all at the same time.” Merlin laughed.

“Fair point,” Arthur agreed, “Well made.” They both smiled and continued eating their dinner.

\--

“When did you decide you wanted to be a baker?” Merlin asked, leaning back in his chair and sipping his coffee. Beneath the table his long legs were stretched out, his feet tangling with Arthur’s, which was making Arthur’s train of thought derail slightly.

“We went to Paris a lot when I was growing up, and I was always just in love with the idea. I wanted to run a small neighbourhood bakery like they have in Paris. Everyone popping in to buy their croissants, and then coming back that evening for their baguettes on their way home. There was always just something so romantic about it. And I wanted that to be me.”

“And you decided that you wanted to be permanently covered with flour to enhance your appeal?” Merlin added, eyeing Arthur’s hair. Arthur ran a hand through it, self-conscious, and came back with fingers coated lightly in flour.

“Damn.” Arthur muttered. Merlin laughed, nudging his legs against Arthur’s under the table.

“You’re just lucky I’m not gluten intolerant.” Merlin smirked, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a long sip. Arthur felt himself blushing from his toes right to the top of his head, and he suddenly wanted their date to be over so that they could get to the kiss at the end of the night. 

\--

It was amazing that Arthur wasn’t more nervous when the bakery awards ceremony finally arrived. If he was honest with himself, the events which had transpired since the day of the judging, (his asking Merlin out on a date, going on that date, and then continuing to see each other with increasing regularity), had totally eclipsed the importance of the bakery awards in Arthur’s life. He wasn’t the sort to let his personal life affect his professional life in any way, but as the night of the ceremony arrived, Arthur found that what he was most excited about was seeing Merlin in a tuxedo.

And when Merlin stepped out of Gwen’s car to pick Arthur up at his flat, Arthur’s excitement was proved justified. Merlin looked stunning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long, lean legs, and a bow tie. Merlin reached out a hand to him, his face split in a warm smile. “Coming, Baker King?”

Arthur surprised both Merlin and Gwen by kissing Merlin where he stood, being careful not to wrinkle their tuxedos. Arthur could hear the drivers’ side window rolling up as Gwen, giggling, averted her eyes, but after a few long moments where time lost all meaning, Gwen peeped the horn of the car, and he and Merlin broke apart, smiling.

“Whatever happens tonight,” Arthur said, linking hands with Merlin as they climbed into the back of Gwen’s car, “This has already been worth it.”

“You’re saying,” Merlin said, leaning in close and whispering over Gwen’s curious eyes in the rear view mirror, “That even if you don’t win any awards tonight it was worth it for the snog?”

“Something like that.” Arthur laughed, and Merlin’s whole body rumbled with a laugh beside him.

The evening passed in a haze, Arthur and Merlin floating through the crowd, smiling, while Merlin did a better job of promoting Arthur’s business than he did. Arthur overheard snatches of conversation, Merlin saying, “They’re honestly the best croissants in the world.”, and, “I’m his partner, yes, but not his business partner.”, and “This is the only time I’ve ever seen him without flour in his hair.”

When they announced the winners, Arthur was probably the only one who was surprised that he’d won Best Croissant and Best Cream Cake. Merlin beamed with pride as Arthur took the stage to accept his awards, and Arthur blushed crimson with embarrassment as the entire room applauded him.

At the end of the night Gwen returned to collect an overly proud Merlin and a thoroughly shell-shocked Arthur. She drove them to Arthur’s flat, and as they said their goodbyes on the pavement, Gwen appeared behind Merlin and slung a bag over his shoulder.

“He’s staying the night.” Gwen said, nodding once at Arthur with an absolutely devilish smile on her face, and then she scarpered back to her car and drove away.

“I’m sorry. I can call a taxi.” Merlin said, blushing deeply and averting his eyes. Arthur caught Merlin’s chin in his hands and lifted his face until Merlin’s eyes found his again.

“Do you want to stay?” Arthur asked, and he felt his own cheeks burn. Merlin held his gaze for a few long seconds, then he leaned forward and kissed Arthur with intent.

“I would love to.” Merlin whispered, as Arthur pushed through the door to the close and fumbled for his keys.

\--

Late on Sunday evening, after Merlin had thoroughly failed to go home at all that day, he and Arthur arrived at the bakery.

“I’ve never been here after hours before.” Merlin said, his eyes wide and excited. 

“Well, I need to work, and you didn’t want to go home.” Arthur laughed and held Merlin’s hand, pulling him into the bakery and shutting the door behind them. Only the emergency lights were on, casting shadows over everything. 

“How do you know I’m not a spy for a rival bakery here to steal the recipe for the Best Almond Croissants in the World?” Merlin said, sitting in the chair Arthur guided him to as Arthur donned his hat and apron, switched the kitchen lights on, and went to wash his hands. Merlin stayed put and watched as Arthur mixed the dough, shaped the dough to let it rise, and began the lamination process. Normally while Arthur worked he listened to music, or podcasts, or audio books, but having Merlin on hand to talk him through the plot points of the story he was focusing on at the moment was an excellent alternative.

It was also nice to have something to look at. Merlin lounged in the chair, then slouched, then stood abruptly and sat himself back down with his legs crossed, and in each of these energetic poses Merlin was still as beautiful as ever. 

Merlin was suitably impressed at the work that went into the croissants, and Arthur did his best to be impressive. Even if he was, once again, covered in flour. It seemed, though, that slightly covered in flour was how Merlin liked Arthur best.

Merlin even washed the dishes while Arthur tidied the kitchen when he had finished his work. When Merlin was finished he went through to the front of the shop before Arthur, who checked to make sure that everything was put away where it needed to be, and then switched the kitchen lights off on his way out.

Merlin was sitting on the counter by the till, long legs swinging, smiling in the dimness of the emergency lighting. Arthur stepped up to him, one of Merlin’s legs on either side of him, and he wrapped Merlin in an embrace, sinking in to the soft skin of Merlin’s neck and breathing deeply. Merlin’s hands encircled him and pulled him close.

“Thank you for staying with me today.” Arthur said, resting his forehead on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me.” Merlin said, his voice soft and almost reverent.

“Yesterday you told someone we were partners. Not business partners, but partners.” Arthur said, not moving. Merlin’s hands stilled completely and Arthur could feel him swallow.

“Is that OK?” Merlin asked, and he swallowed again. Arthur said nothing, so Merlin continued. “I thought about calling you my boyfriend, or my lover, but partner seemed to fit us better.”

Arthur looked up and their eyes met. He smiled, and he saw Merlin relax, a smile creeping onto his face slowly. Arthur kissed him and Merlin wrapped his legs tighter around him, his arms pulling Arthur painfully close. He’d wanted to kiss Merlin like this, here in his bakery, since the day Merlin ordered his first cup of coffee.

“I think it’s perfect.” Arthur said, and then he kissed Merlin again, and again.

\--

\--

The following morning Merlin came in just after the bakery opened, and he unpacked his notebooks at his usual table. As Arthur worked in the kitchen he could hear Sophie and Merlin deciding where to hang up the awards that Arthur had won, and he decided to leave them to it. If there was one thing in this world that Arthur was terrible at, it was hanging things on a wall in a straight line.

“I need food.” Arthur announced well after lunch time, emerging from a cloud of flour from the kitchen to see Merlin engrossed in his work, head bent low over one of his glittering notebooks. He hadn’t heard Arthur, so Arthur took the opportunity to take a picture of Merlin working so hard, and he published it on his own Instagram, tagging Merlin. He scrolled through the photos Merlin had published that morning, a few of his notebooks, one of his coffee and croissant, and a candid one of Arthur concentrating on weighing out ingredients that Arthur hadn’t even noticed him taking. Their Instagram accounts had become mutual shrines to each other; silent symbols of their love which had grown slowly fiercer with each day.

Arthur walked over and stood behind Merlin, gently massaging the back of Merlin’s neck and stretching his fingers through the base of his hair. Merlin looked up, smiling, and reached up to brush flour off Arthur’s cheek. “I need food.” Arthur repeated.

Merlin looked back at the table, scattered as it was with Merlin’s half-finished thoughts. He began closing notebooks and reached for his bag to put them away. Arthur stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. “Just leave them.” Arthur said, smiling, “It’s your table, and we all know you’re coming back after we have lunch.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked, and Arthur leaned down to kiss him.

“I’m sure.” Arthur said, and Merlin’s notebooks never left the table again.

\--

\--

The following year Arthur won every category he entered in the baking competition. Including the new category for best managed social media account, for which he made Merlin accept the award, as it was Merlin’s ceaseless documentation of their lives at the bakery which had earned the award in the first place.

When Merlin published his first novel the dedication read only: To My Baker King.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for letting me join this fest. I am awful at deadlines and I've been hibernating, but I hope I haven't let anyone down. xx Cally


End file.
